closed RP: Brienne and Jaime
Brienne had known from an early age that she did not look the way a lady should. Too tall, shoulders too broad, face too broad, and when her breasts did grow they didn’t grow much. Then she’d learned to fight, and added a collection of scars and injuries that made the matter worse. Her nose had been broken. What Biter did to her cheek, she’d let a professor at Hogwarts fix. There was no fixing the rest of her, though. She’d have needed a whole new body for that.
And then, one morning, she awoke to find she had precisely that.
Except that it wasn’t exactly new. It was, shall we say, a used body. Specifically, it was the Queen’s body.
She realised it before even opening her eyes. She wore something silken, and she’d gone to sleep in mail and boiled leather, wanting to be ready for anything. She even smelled different. Something sweet, a perfume of some kind, not the familiar smell of stables or armor or sweat.
Tentatively, she passed light fingertips over her own face - no, over the face that was not hers. The skin of the fingertips themselves was almost as much a surprise as the skin they touched: no callouses, soft.
It was not until she looked into a mirror, though, that it dawned on her just how much trouble she was in. Brienne looked into the mirror, hesitant, and the face of Cersei Lannister looked back at her, that hesitant expression utterly foreign on her refined features.
Queen Cersei will kill me, she thought, and on the heels of that thought: If I am in Queen Cersei’s body, who is in mine? Brienne had to fix this, before something terrible happened. What could happen she could not say, only that it would be bad.
Doggedly, she set out, still in Cersei’s nightgown, having no idea where she was going or what she was looking for, only that she needed to do something, and she would not find any answers if she hid in Cersei’s room. It was not much different from her search for the Stark girls back in Westeros, in that sense. She had little to guide her, but damned if she wouldn’t try. She would ask the first person she met if they knew anything, and use that information as her guide until she heard different from the next person.
But the first person she met, in a corridor wholly unfamiliar to her, was Jaime Lannister.
Brienne realised that she had been wrong about how much trouble she was in, after all. She was in far more trouble than she ever could have imagined.